


Clint's Seaside Christmas

by Jtargaryen18 (snowqueen79), snowqueen79



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Breeding, Drugging, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/Jtargaryen18, https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowqueen79/pseuds/snowqueen79
Summary: Clint Barton's family was lost as a result of the snap and reversing it didn't bring them back. When killing those he considered not worthy of survival didn't heal the hole in his heart, he found a woman who did. This Christmas, he's claiming her.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Reader
Comments: 23
Kudos: 139





	Clint's Seaside Christmas

“He’s up front,” Helen told you over the bakery case you were filling with fresh Christmas cupcakes, concern edging her expression.

You glanced up at the shop owner and nodded. You knew exactly which _he_ she was talking about.

“I’ll head up there,” you told her.

It had been almost four months since the last time he came in. And you couldn’t say how you felt about that. Part of you had hoped that he wouldn’t come back.

Another part of you was fascinated with him. You knew you probably shouldn’t be because he scared you.

But you were.

You made your way from behind the shop’s bakery counter to head to the front. F _antastique_ was Helen’s dream, a shop where she sold beauty products, toys, and clothes for babies and small children. There were books, jewelry, and novelties available for sale from all over the world because she traveled a lot. The bakery served designer cupcakes, cold bottles of Faygo in all different flavors, and ice cream from a huge case. You also served simple food items. Hot dogs, nachos, and simple cold wraps.

 _Fantastique_ was a wholesome, charming shop and you were lucky to work there. Lucky to rent an apartment above the shop in the small, seaside village. Yeah, Helen asked that you wear nice dresses for work and liked for you to tie ribbons or flowers in your hair too. But you had a good life. You were happy.

There he was waiting at the front register. He stood out like a shark in a sunny goldfish pond. He wore a longer black coat with dark jeans, a black sweater. He wore a mohawk, the dark gold of his hair a longer sweep from the top of his head, giving him an edgy look.

He was an attractive man with bright blue eyes, strong features, and a jaw for days. You would have said he was classically handsome, but he always had a five o’clock shadow. It gave him a decidedly dangerous vibe.

Whoever he was, he hadn’t told you his name. He always seemed so fascinated with all the items in the shop. At odd moments, when he thought no one was looking, he looked… sad, lost.

And you would know because you were the only one he’d allow to serve him in the store. If he had to wait for an hour – and he had before when the local girl scout troop came in for celebratory ice cream during one of his visits – he would.

Dashing around him to reach the front counter, you smiled up at him. It had been busy because it was Christmas Eve but there was a nice lull at the moment.

“Hi there,” you greeted. “What can I do for you today?”

The tense expression he wore relaxed at that and the slightest smile formed on his lips.

“Hi there,” he replied. “I’ll take my usual.”

You motioned for him to follow you. It was the routine. He followed you back to the bakery and took a seat in the corner at one of the small round tables. You made him two hot dogs – one with ketchup and one with mayonnaise – and served them with an orange Faygo.

Once you brought everything out to him, he gazed up at you and thanked you, always using your name.

Something about the way he looked at you. The way he’d watch you closely the entire time he was there. Sure, it was attention from an attractive man. What single woman didn’t enjoy that?

It was the shadows behind those amazing blue eyes that made you pause. They made you afraid you’d get lost in them if you looked too closely into his eyes.

“You’ve never told me _your_ name,” the words were out of your mouth before your brain could catch up as you brought his order out to him.

_What are you doing? He already makes you nervous. Do you really want to be on a first name basis with him?_

He studied you for a moment, like he was debating with himself to answer you, and then finally said, “Clint.”

You smiled. You needed to get back to work. “Enjoy, Clint.”

***

Clint Barton watched from the shadows as she left the shop, locking the door behind her.

It was Christmas Eve night and it surprised him that she was walking down to the bar at the end of the street. But then, with no family to spend the holidays with, what else could she do?

He loved that she didn’t immediately go home and change out of the flowing holiday dress she wore. She looked so soft in her dressy coat, so beautiful as she walked up the street with her hair and that dress floating around her.

Each week for the last month, she’d been meeting some young man from the village. He was probably a decent guy. Clint didn’t know. He didn’t _care_. Whoever he was, he’d walked her home last week and they sat on the stairs leading to her apartment for a while before she’d gone up – _Thank God_ – alone.

Clint would take care of that little problem tonight.

She didn’t know it yet. But she was _his_.

When she was out of sight, he skipped across the street, up the stairs to the door of her apartment. He hadn’t made the rounds the last time he was in town. Tonight, he’d remedy that.

He stepped into her living room after he picked the lock. Everything was neat and clean, just like her. Soft and welcoming, like her. The Christmas tree in the corner was about her height and so cute with whimsical ornaments and satin ribbons like those she often wore in her hair.

The domesticity of it hurt his heart, reminded him of the family he’d lost.

Laura had taken the kids to Cooper’s little league practice that day only they never arrived. The snap happened and the driver of a car coming towards them on the bridge vanished into thin air. That’s what the investigator told him had happened. The impact had sent Laura’s car with his entire family sailing off the bridge, into the river below. All four bodies were later pulled from the water.

None of them survived. And at first, Clint didn’t think _he’d_ survive it. He’d been so filled with grief and vengeance that when he killed the first ones, he’d intended it to be a suicide mission. He wanted to take out people who didn’t deserve to live, didn’t deserve to have survived the snap.

But Clint didn’t die that night. Nor the next night. Or the night after that.

But the hole in his heart grew by the day, no amount of blood could even take the edge off.

And then one day, his bike broke down in this tiny little village. He’d walked to town and the shop was the first door he reached. He just needed to use a phone since his own had died or a place to take his bike.

And that was the day he met _her_.

She made him _want_ again.

There was no dishonesty in those bright eyes. She was real and so damned beautiful. So unfailingly kind to him.

When he left the village, his mind kept drifting back to her. His heart kept drifting back. He’d return for a visit and just being near her was like being able to breathe again. She reminded him, at first, of everything he’d lost. 

But slowly, over time, she came to represent everything he _could_ have again.

There were plenty of groceries in the kitchen. _Good._ He could make her a nice breakfast in the morning. She’d need it.

Her bedroom was his favorite place. Fresh flowers scented her bedside table and the bed was made, the sheets and bedding cream-colored and soft. A few cosmetics littered her vanity. The gloss that made those beautiful lips shine.

Yanking open the top drawer, he grinned as he gazed over her collection of panties, stockings, and bras. All pastel colors in lace and innocence. He couldn’t wait to see her only in a pair of pink lace panties or in one of the filmy little lingerie pieces she apparently had a fondness for.

Clint wouldn’t take anything tonight. He wouldn’t need to. He was going to make her _his_ tonight.

She was exactly what he wanted, what he _needed_. She could give him a new family, a new life.

Their children would be just as beautiful as Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel had been.

***

Kevin smiled as he brought your drinks from the bar. You’d been talking for a few weeks now. You knew he liked you. He was nice-looking and you really enjoyed talking to him. He was a little pushy, granted. He’d followed you to your apartment last week and you’d talked to him on the stairs for a while. You knew he’d wanted to go with you into your apartment, to stay the night. He’d hinted at it.

You weren’t ready for that yet.

It had been a red flag but not enough to make you give up yet. You’d give it another shot. Maybe you’d read the situation wrong.

Tonight, he was telling you about a funny thing that happened this week at the holiday party at his accounting firm. It was funny even if you didn’t know any of the other people involved. He told a pretty good story.

But you were embarrassed because you had trouble focusing. You tried to suppress a yawn first. Your eyes felt heavy. You just felt tired. Where was this coming from? You didn’t have a busier day than you normally did. You’d slept well last night.

“Are you okay?” Kevin stopped to ask you.

You nodded, yawned.

“I’m so sorry,” you explained. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Holiday excitement I guess.”

He continued with the story and you managed to stay with him. It _was_ really funny when he got to the end and you enjoyed a good laugh with him.

“How about another round?” he asked with a grin.

You nodded. Probably wasn’t the best idea to throw more alcohol on top of how you felt. But just one more…

“I’m going to go to the restroom,” you said, “while you do that.”

Kevin nodded, rising and heading for the bar.

You rose from your chair and the world spun for you. In the next instant, you were on the floor and everything was still spinning.

Someone called your name. You looked wildly around for the source of the voice. It wasn’t Kevin kneeling on the floor by your side.

It was _him_. Clint.

His blue eyes were filled with concern as he looked you over. His left arm came up to steady you, his sweater sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His forearm was covered in tattoos. The design was in deep shades of green and black. Was it a dragon? A serpent? Everything was moving…

“Hey,” Clint drew your attention to him. “Look at me. Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

Helping you into a sitting position on the floor, the rough pads of Clint’s fingers tipped your chin up. You smiled up at him as his gaze moved over you.

“Hey, is she okay?” _That_ was Kevin’s voice. “What happened?”

Clint gently eased you up off the floor, holding you tightly to his side.

_Wow. He’s really muscular._

“You tell _me_.” Clint sounded pissed. “You put something in her drink?”

You managed to look at Kevin and the look on his face was one of sheer horror.

“What? No! I wouldn’t… Dude, look. She told me she didn’t know what was wrong. Maybe she’s sick or something… I didn’t… I _wouldn’t_ …”

Clint’s arm tightened around you. “She’s been drugged my friend and you’re the only one I’ve seen buying her drinks tonight.”

The pudgy older bartender came stomping in your direction, his glare on you then Kevin.

“Is this true?” he demanded of your date.

“No,” Kevin’s face was bright red and his gaze swung wildly between you, Clint, and now the bartender. “I didn’t do anything to her.”

“If I were you,” the bartender said with more than a little venom in his words, “I would leave. Now. Before I decide to call the police. And I don’t want you back here. You understand?”

Kevin almost looked as if he were going to cry. He didn’t look back at you. Merely placed the drinks on the table where you’d been sitting and scampered away like a scared crab.

_That’s funny. He’s red as a crab too._

You were dizzy. You tried to step away from Clint only to almost fall again.

One of the waitresses, you knew her, walked up. She dipped her index finger with its nail painted pale green in the glass with the pretty umbrella. It had been _your_ drink. You all watched the paint on that nail turn black.

“Yep,” she said. “The nail polish I use reacts to common date rape drugs.”

_Kevin had tried to drug you?_

Clint’s deep sigh near your ear made you shiver.

“I’m going to get her home,” Clint told the bartender. “I’m a friend.”

He pulled a hundred dollar bill out of his pocket and slid it onto the same table where the drinks sat.

“S’at right?” the bartender was talking to you. At least, you _thought_ he was talking to you. “He your friend?”

You looked from the man to Clint and smiled. “Yes. Clint’s my friend.”

The bartender nodded then. “Take care of her,” the man told Clint, obviously upset about what happened. “Come back down here or call if she needs anything.”

“Will do,” Clint said as he maneuvered you back to another table and grabbed his long leather coat from a chair. “I appreciate it.”

The air was chilly when he helped you walk out of the bar. His leather coat was heavy, but oh so warm when he draped it around you. It smelled like him.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, wondering why you were wearing his coat and he was carrying yours.

Clint smiled at you as he helped you up the sidewalk. He had a really nice smile. You’d always thought he was attractive.

You just didn’t know why you were leaving the bar with him. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home, honey,” Clint said softly.

But you were supposed to be on a date – sort of – with Kevin. But Clint and the bartender got mad at him after you fell and made him leave. Why did you fall? Your thoughts were scrambling around your brain like confused fireflies as you tried to come up with what happened.

Then it occurred to you.

“Wait,” you paused on the sidewalk and Clint stopped with you, “did Kevin… _roofie_ me?”

Clint’s laugh was a deep, warm sound. You liked it.

“Yeah, honey,” Clint explained. “Guess he did.”

Clint tried to nudge you to continue moving but you weren’t done.

“So he’s a _bad_ guy?”

Clint’s smile faded a moment at that before his gaze returned to yours and he nodded.

“There are a lot of those these days,” he muttered.

You didn’t feel like you could walk very fast. Hell, you couldn’t feel yourself walk at all. You held onto Clint who guided you up the sidewalk. When you reached the shop, you tried to climb the stairs to go in.

“Honey, what are you doing?” Clint asked with a laugh. “Time to go home.”

“I live _here_ ,” you pointed out with a giggle.

“I know,” he told you.

You squealed when Clint scooped you up bridal style and headed up the side stairs to your apartment. It occurred to you in your addled state to wonder _how_ he knew where you lived it. But he ran with you and everything racing by looked so pretty.

He must have gotten your keys from your coat pocket because he’d unlocked the door and carried you in with an efficiency that had your head spinning. All the movement came to a halt when he dumped you onto your bed and moved to turn on the lamp on the bedside table. Gently he pulled his heavy leather coat from you and draped it along with your coat over the wicker chair in the corner of your bedroom.

Clint grinned at you where you lay stretched across your bed. You thought it was odd that he climbed up on the bed with you but then you had another thought.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you told him.

“Yes, it is, honey.” Clint stretched out next to you. His fingers skimmed over your face, brushing back your hair. It felt nice. “When are you supposed to go back to work?”

“Helen said I was off until Monday,” you told him as he slid his fingers along the red ribbon you’d woven into your hair. “So I’ve got five days off starting tomorrow… I think.”

“Why are _you_ here?” you asked. “Why… why aren’t you with your family? On Christmas Eve?”

Something sad flashed in his eyes then. Just like that it was gone.

“I don’t have a lot of family left,” he explained. “The ones I’ve got are busy elsewhere tonight.”

“I don’t have any family left,” you told him. “They were all gone before the… snap thing. Excerpt for an aunt in Providence.”

Again, that cocky grin. “I know.”

You laughed. _How_ did he know all of this?

“Clint,” you asked with what you hoped was a serious face. “What are you doing here?”

When he pressed a kiss to your forehead, your heart started racing in your chest. Which was funny because the rest of you felt fuzzy… heavy…

“Claiming my girl,” Clint told you with a smile.

Oh, he had an awesome smile.

Claiming seemed like a funny word for him to use. But you didn’t question him as he loosened the straps on your heels and took off your shoes. You had to arch your back up a little for him to reach the zipper at the back of your red velvet dress. He’d peeled that off you next and when you lay on your bed in your forest green bra and panty set, you couldn’t remember why you’d worn it. It wasn’t like you’d planned to bring Kevin home with you tonight, right? You didn’t plan to have _him_ in your bed.

Clint was in your bed though…

“What are you doing?” you asked stretching, watching those pale blue eyes darken as his gaze roamed over you hungrily. “You’re here in my apartment… in my bed…”

Clint smiled. “Trying to decide how I want to take you apart first.”

“Huh?”

He was on you the next second, strong arms planted on either side of you, his hands in your hair. Clint held you in place for his kiss and instinctively you braced yourself.

You didn’t need to. His lips pressed against yours gently, carefully. For long moments, his lips played along with yours with ease, an enticing dance. When his tongue teased the seam of your lips to request entrance, you let him in. The room was still spinning – what was _that_ about? – but you held onto him, your hands sliding up and down the muscled lengths of his arms.

When his lips moved over your chin, down your neck, you squeaked and squirmed in his grip. You hung on even tighter as he moved down the bed, his hands sliding down to cover your breasts. Clint was pressing heated kisses over your shoulders, along your collar bone, down over your chest.

Your heart started racing in alarm. What was he doing?

“Clint?” you tried to lift your head, but everything was moving around you. “What are we doing?”

He pressed a kiss to your breast over the dark green lace of the bra.

“Making love,” he told you, such sincerity in those incredible eyes…

And if you were dating him, if you were a couple right now, it would be one of those “aww” moments that you’d never had with a guy but always wanted.

But you weren’t a couple. Clint was that intimidating guy in the leather coat who came into the shop every few weeks and kind of scared you and Helen. How did you go from that to having him here in your bed? 

A rough hand pulled down one of your bra cups and then his mouth was on the peak of your breast, his tongue teasing it into a hard, little aching point while you gasped above him.

Again, you tried to lift from the bed, to stop him. The minute you pushed up the world spun more. You panicked as your heart raced in your chest.

“Shhh,” Clint slid a hand up from your breast to the center of your chest, pressing you back down. “You’re okay, honey… I’ve got you.”

He had you alright. Your bra went next then those hands, his fingertips and palms were so _rough_ , were all over your breasts. So was his mouth. Your hands clutched at your bed as Clint pressed kisses all over you, his hands searching for all the areas on your body that left you breathless and trembling.

“Clint,” you said nervously when he pulled off the sweater he wore, revealing the full sleeve tattooed on his arm. You were riveted by it, lifting a hand to his shoulder tracing over the design with your fingers. A skeletal face in armor…

“What… does this mean?” you whispered, trying to get a closer look.

Moving back up to you, Clint moved the arm closer, letting you take a look. When your fingers slid over his skin, his eyes slid closed like your touch was something he very much wanted.

“It’s a ronin,” he said finally, his eyes back on you. “In Japan, if a samurai’s master died, or the samurai lost the favor of that master, he went rogue. He was called a ronin.”

“Where did he live then?” you asked as your finger traced the skeletal face in the arm.

“He had no home,” Clint whispered.

“And his family?” you went on, feeling sad. Why did he have this tattooed on his arm then?

“He had no family.”

The despair in his voice. Did you imagine it?

“Ronin means wandering man,” Clint told you, tears in his voice.

“Is that you?” you asked him. “Did you get this… because you…”

The fact that his eyes were glossy from tears stopped you from finishing that question. Had he lost his family? His home? What happened to him?

Clint’s gaze wandered around your bedroom and for a moment, he looked confused as to where he was and what he was doing. Or maybe it was whatever drug Kevin put in the drink that made you think that.

“Ronin?” you asked him, pressing a hand over his heart. His chest was warm, strong beneath your palm.

His hand slid over yours, holding it there.

“I was.” A tear slid down his cheek. “But not anymore… I have a chance to belong somewhere again. With you.”

_You?_

“Clint, I don’t…” Everything was still off. The room was spinning. Your mind was spinning. “What’s happening?”

“I’m making you mine,” he whispered, shifting down your body.

You were powerless to do anything but watch. Clint settled himself between your legs, pulling them wide. Those strong, callous hands slid up the inside of your thighs in a way that left you shivering on the bed. His hands smoothed over your tummy, and he leaned down to press a kiss just above where your panties began.

“Everything I need is right here,” he whispered before gazing up at you. “You’re everything I want… You can give me a future, a home.”

Panic was starting to break through the fog your mind was cloaked in. What was he talking about? A home? A future? You were still trying to figure out why you were pretty much naked under him in your bed.

When he leaned down again, whispering your name as he pressed his face into your barely covered mound, you shivered. Clint was breathing you in. Desire blended with muted fear to lazily buzz in your brain.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

Hooking a finger in the crotch of your panties, he pulled it to the side and dove for you with his mouth. Your cry filled the room as he wrapped those heavily muscled arms around your thighs and settled in, using his mouth on you in ways that you’d never experienced before.

You were no virgin. But you’d only had someone go down on you a handful of times. Those experiences had been awkward and short-lived. You’d remembered thinking you wanted to move onto something else because you were embarrassed, unsure.

Within seconds every damn thought in your head had fled and your body was conquered by crazy waves of craving as his tongue teased that tiny bundle of nerves at the center of you. Your back arched, your thighs tensed. Clint held you in place as he did exactly what he’d promised and took you apart with his mouth.

When he moaned you felt it all through your lower body. Your hands slid up his arms, up to his head. Your fingers slid up the slick sides of his head to reach the thick locks of dark blonde hair at the top and clutched there. When he moaned again, you almost came. Your aching walls quivered, and it took your breath.

“That’s it, honey,” Clint said into your most intimate flesh. “I want you to come, baby… Come for me…”

You didn’t really have a choice. His tongue flicked madly against your clit as his fingers slid into your channel. The rough pads of his fingers found a trigger there, smoothing over it just so. Your hands yanked at his hair tightly, your lower body moving in a dance guided by his fingers.

You’d had a lover bring you to orgasm a few times but nothing like this.

Your scream filled the room and you thrashed in his hold, scrambling on the bed as he held you there, easing you down with his mouth. The darkness that claimed the edges of your vision where a mercy because it made the spinning lessen, gave you a moment of respite after you shook apart.

Clint had shed the rest of his clothes and you couldn’t help but stare at his long muscular body as he climbed back on the bed and over you.

_Was this a dream?_

_Where had your panties gone?_

But it wasn’t a dream. He whispered your name as his body covered yours, as the heated length of him began to push into you with determination. The head of him was wide. It took your breath as he pushed inside you.

Fear sliced through the muted din of your thoughts. You hadn’t dated anyone in a while. You’d stopped taking the pill months ago because it caused you to have headaches and bleed when you weren’t supposed to.

“Clint,” you whispered as he kept sliding further into you. “We… I can’t…”

“We are,” he whispered before lowering his mouth to yours, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

It took some effort to pull your mouth free and by the time you managed it, he’d reached the end of you. Clint was buried deep in you, the expression of bliss on his face unmistakable.

“Clint,” you whispered, needing to get his attention as your heart raced. “I’m not… on anything. Not… on the pill. I can’t…”

Clint’s eyes opened then, and he lowered himself onto his forearms above you. It felt like the most intimate embrace.

“Honey, we’re not going to worry about that right now,” he whispered against your lips. “This is the first time I’ve ever been inside you. I want to remember it… I want it to be the best night of my life…”

When he started moving inside you, coherent thought was lost. All you knew was him, forcing your body to stretch around him as he built up to a powerful rhythm. Your thighs locked around his hips, your hands roamed restlessly until he finally noticed them. Collaring your wrists, Clint pressed them to the bed on either side of you and began to fuck you in quick powerful strokes.

His thrusts had your clit throbbing against him. When he released one hand to slide between your bodies, you were embarrassed that you came as soon as those fingers reached it. You thought Clint had lost it too as he groaned at the feeling of you clamping around him.

But he hung on, continuing to dominate you with powerful thrusts of his hips against the gentle stroke of his fingers.

Clint brought you off again and it was then that you thought you’d finally lose consciousness. But when his thrusts lost their rhythm, gaining in speed and strength, your heart flew.

“Please,” you begged him. “Pull out… Please…”

“Shhh,” he whispered, his lips claiming yours as he subtly changed the angle of his thrusts.

Hitting that trigger inside you, he had you howling, losing the world as you came screaming and writhing wildly beneath him. You weren’t even aware of Clint reaching his own release, his cries echoing in the room along with yours as he thrust one last time and held, his release pumping into you…

***

Clint sighed, the storm that raged inside him since his world fell apart finally gone. Inside him, it was mercifully quiet. He felt… peace.

All he could hear was the soft, even sound of her breathing as she slept. When he lifted his head, his heart swelled to look at his beautiful girl. Her hair, those ribbons, shined off the pillow. The lush expanse of her skin was silken comfort beneath him.

She’d given him everything, had silenced his pain. He knew she would.

Easing himself from her body, Clint stretched out next to her and pulled her into his arms. In her sleep, she curled into him like a cat, snuggling and trusting.

Clint hoped that she didn’t sleep for too long. Tomorrow morning he’d make her breakfast and he’d take her again. He’d give his girl the best Christmas Day ever.

Gazing down at the flat surface of her tummy, he rather hoped he’d already given her a gift. He couldn’t wait to start a family with her. To start their lives together.

Hoping he hadn’t used too much of the drug Natasha had gotten for him, Clint decided to catch some sleep with her.

Clint slept soundly with her in his arms, in a way he hadn’t slept in years.

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